We first discovered Arton on the 28th of August 1978. It was as though the house had been waiting for us to discover it and from the very first moment we set eyes on it we knew this would the house of our dreams, the idyll we had been waiting for where we would make our life. The letter M crowns the entrance and we considered this to be a sign of good augur for the family named de Montal and de Montesquiou. Between the rusted bars of the majestic wrought iron gate we saw the outline of a chartreuse house with Italian style terraces. How could anyone resist this magnificent property that had been abandoned, its shutters closing out the world, in silent abeyance? The simplest architectural style that combined beautifully tranquil proportions with an almost rustic elegance. The walls were rendered using traditional materials and colours of the region, the unmistakeable rust-pink colours of local roof tiles, the shutters made up in wide planks of wood painted an elegant shade of grey. We were soon to discover that this harmony extended to all of the different adjacent buildings of the property creating an overall end-result that was miraculously reminiscent of an ancient Roman villa surrounded by a fleet of different outhouses.

We climbed the grill that sits atop a stone wall and our gaze wound its way through the branches of an ancient weeping willow to a facade that had an even greater allure if such a thing were possible.

Time stood still. All around us was silent. All we could hear was the beating of our hearts. Our first reaction was one of total amazement that was soon replaced by an overpowering sense of awe!

To the east there emerged a scene of the most exquisite beauty. From the vast terrace planted with lawn a wrought iron balustrade wound its way up two stone staircases that met in symbiosis one small floor up. At its feet a carpet of wild cyclamen and all around, dotted as though by happenchance, lime trees, box bushes and gnarled cedars. In the centre like the beating heart of the property, a pond surrounded by giant pots from Anduze from which emerged the luxuriant rich leaves of orange trees. Beyond, we could see the orangery with its windows in shards. It overlooked another terrace that looked so cool in the shade of a towering horse chestnut tree from where the views opened up over a valley flanked by wild scrubland planted with oaks and fragrant juniper. The hills that stretched out in a blue haze and as though drawn by the hand of an artist, formed ghostlike contours that are so typical of our beloved Gascony. Discovering these grounds around the property was like posing as models for characters in a game of hide and seek in a Fragonard painting. White wrought iron grills in all different shapes and sizes guided us from small copse-like plantations of topiary along delicate terraces flanked by low walls to fountains leaping to the sky from delightful water features, and a backdrop to the property that was all the more beautiful for having been abandoned and left adrift with no one at the helm!

Our eyes met and it was immediately clear that we shared the same dream. There was not a second of hesitation. We would discover every nook and cranny of this house, we would wander from one room to another, inhale the ambiance, dream and together project our vision onto this house that we would take to our hearts.

We entered the huge hall, with its authentic traditional cement tiles, so elegant in understated shades of grey. A high cornice ran all along the ceiling and at the other end, the East, a door to greet the sunrise, that was identical to the one on the West that bids farewell to the setting sun.

Like most typical Gers properties, one enters into a wide corridor running the whole length of the house from which one gains access to an array of different rooms.

The proportions of this house are an outstanding example of harmony. Each room has its own chimney place, cornices, tall windows that almost hug the ground affording magnificent views of the surrounding landscape and creating generous openings so that the light can invade the rooms and bring them to life. In the large kitchen with its walls discoloured by centuries of smoke from the fire, we are invaded by the smells of farmhouses that recall our childhood. A mixture of acrid soot, ripe fruits and soups cooked in the large stone fireplace. The cellar is very old and has several large rooms and even a spring. These are the remains of the original property that date back to the 12th century. This is what formed the foundations for the current chartreuse that was built in 1860. The harmony and simplicity, both essential conditions of elegance, are present in the tiniest of details like the fittings on the doors and windows all of which are of an identical height and design throughout the property. The end-result is a property that is pleasing, restful and inspiring to the eye.

But do not think, dear readers, that dreams are made of idylls alone. Our final dream of living and bringing to life this house that we loved so much took some time and lots of hard work. The keys to the property gave us access to a house that had no electricity, no running water, let alone heating. The only facilities were an old cast-iron bath that wobbled on its lion's feet, toilets and a few bits and pieces. It was to take one year before we were able to move in and even then we considered ourselves fortunate to have even the bare essentials required for the simplest of lifestyles.

The motto of our family: Durum Patientia Frangit , (Patience triumphs over trials), was about to be tested to its limits.

We first discovered Arton on the 28th of August 1978. It was as though the house had been waiting for us to discover it and from the very first moment we set eyes on it we knew this would the house of our dreams, the idyll we had been waiting for where we would make our life. The letter M crowns the entrance and we considered this to be a sign of good augur for the family named de Montal and de Montesquiou. Between the rusted bars of the majestic wrought iron gate we saw the outline of a chartreuse house with Italian style terraces. How could anyone resist this magnificent property that had been abandoned, its shutters closing out the world, in silent abeyance? The simplest architectural style that combined beautifully tranquil proportions with an almost rustic elegance. The walls were rendered using traditional materials and colours of the region, the unmistakeable rust-pink colours of local roof tiles, the shutters made up in wide planks of wood painted an elegant shade of grey. We were soon to discover that this harmony extended to all of the different adjacent buildings of the property creating an overall end-result that was miraculously reminiscent of an ancient Roman villa surrounded by a fleet of different outhouses.

We climbed the grill that sits atop a stone wall and our gaze wound its way through the branches of an ancient weeping willow to a facade that had an even greater allure if such a thing were possible.

Time stood still. All around us was silent. All we could hear was the beating of our hearts. Our first reaction was one of total amazement that was soon replaced by an overpowering sense of awe!

To the east there emerged a scene of the most exquisite beauty. From the vast terrace planted with lawn a wrought iron balustrade wound its way up two stone staircases that met in symbiosis one small floor up. At its feet a carpet of wild cyclamen and all around, dotted as though by happenchance, lime trees, box bushes and gnarled cedars. In the centre like the beating heart of the property, a pond surrounded by giant pots from Anduze from which emerged the luxuriant rich leaves of orange trees. Beyond, we could see the orangery with its windows in shards. It overlooked another terrace that looked so cool in the shade of a towering horse chestnut tree from where the views opened up over a valley flanked by wild scrubland planted with oaks and fragrant juniper. The hills that stretched out in a blue haze and as though drawn by the hand of an artist, formed ghostlike contours that are so typical of our beloved Gascony. Discovering these grounds around the property was like posing as models for characters in a game of hide and seek in a Fragonard painting. White wrought iron grills in all different shapes and sizes guided us from small copse-like plantations of topiary along delicate terraces flanked by low walls to fountains leaping to the sky from delightful water features, and a backdrop to the property that was all the more beautiful for having been abandoned and left adrift with no one at the helm!

Our eyes met and it was immediately clear that we shared the same dream. There was not a second of hesitation. We would discover every nook and cranny of this house, we would wander from one room to another, inhale the ambiance, dream and together project our vision onto this house that we would take to our hearts.

We entered the huge hall, with its authentic traditional cement tiles, so elegant in understated shades of grey. A high cornice ran all along the ceiling and at the other end, the East, a door to greet the sunrise, that was identical to the one on the West that bids farewell to the setting sun.

Like most typical Gers properties, one enters into a wide corridor running the whole length of the house from which one gains access to an array of different rooms.

The proportions of this house are an outstanding example of harmony. Each room has its own chimney place, cornices, tall windows that almost hug the ground affording magnificent views of the surrounding landscape and creating generous openings so that the light can invade the rooms and bring them to life. In the large kitchen with its walls discoloured by centuries of smoke from the fire, we are invaded by the smells of farmhouses that recall our childhood. A mixture of acrid soot, ripe fruits and soups cooked in the large stone fireplace. The cellar is very old and has several large rooms and even a spring. These are the remains of the original property that date back to the 12th century. This is what formed the foundations for the current chartreuse that was built in 1860. The harmony and simplicity, both essential conditions of elegance, are present in the tiniest of details like the fittings on the doors and windows all of which are of an identical height and design throughout the property. The end-result is a property that is pleasing, restful and inspiring to the eye.

But do not think, dear readers, that dreams are made of idylls alone. Our final dream of living and bringing to life this house that we loved so much took some time and lots of hard work. The keys to the property gave us access to a house that had no electricity, no running water, let alone heating. The only facilities were an old cast-iron bath that wobbled on its lion's feet, toilets and a few bits and pieces. It was to take one year before we were able to move in and even then we considered ourselves fortunate to have even the bare essentials required for the simplest of lifestyles.

The motto of our family: Durum Patientia Frangit , (Patience triumphs over trials), was about to be tested to its limits.